If little Erik had a friend
by U.G
Summary: What if little Erik had a friend? The setting is set when Erik was with the gypsies Susan Kay and all is altered from there. Erik's looks is based upon Leroux's Erik. What if, lord, a living corpse had a friend! Would all change from there?
1. Chapter 1

**Brief information:**

**Story type: Fanfiction of Gaston Leroux and somewhat Susan Kay**

**Setting: Gypsies' camp, 1841, based on Susan Kay's Phantom**

**Characters: Erik and Laura (mostly)**

**Who's Erik? :** **In both novels, a DEFORMED genius in music, composing, architecture, and the master of trapdoors. Deformed in the sense: no nose, yellow eyes (or mismatched in Kay's book), and resembles death.**

**Erik is the guy from the novel the Phantom of the opera. In the original novel, he is a bitter, lonely and a genius who resides in the underground part of the Opera Garnier. His only chance at love was with an eighteen year old soprano Christine Daae whom he personally groomed her singing talent, while hiding his identity as "the angel of music". Erik issued her an ultimatum of death with a quarter of Paris(he plans to blow the place up) or live with him. Erik gets a kiss, lets Christine off with her love the Viscount Raoul de Chagny and dies three weeks later.**

**In Susan Kay's Phantom, Erik life story began as a lonely child who ran away from home, found himself caught by gypsies, went to Persia, and finally resided in the Opera. He found Christine Daae who looked like his mother and fell in love with her. Unfortunately, it was unrequited love. He issued Christine an ultimatum but still let her off with her lover, Raoul De Chagny. Christine later came back with an invite to her wedding, and gave it to Erik. Erik, well, at that point in time was on the verge of death. Christine left, bearing his child who became a genius like Erik.**

**Who's Laura: Um...my character.**

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1841

Laura

* * *

"Stop pulling me Cera, I don't like gypsies!" I cried as she pulled me towards the tent. Mum always said that such places were cursed and gypsies worked for the devil. And, personally, I felt they were being just cruel with people by parading them and profiting from it. Utterly disgusting.

"Aww, is our little Laura scared?," said Cera mockingly. Sometimes I really wish I could punch that girl. But I could not. After all, she was my _darling_ cousin. I must know my manners.

"I am not scared," I growled and a sudden courage grew in me. I will show this cousin a thing or two. After all, everyone has always deemed me to be the braver one. I would not let this little fear of gypsies get to me. I have my pride hanging on the line! Nearer and nearer Cera brought me to the gaudy coloured tent and faster and faster my heart beat. Oh lord, save me!

"Come on up little girls!" an ugly beefy man with scars said to us, smiling with a toothless grin that only flashed in the face of potential moneymaking opportunity. Cera grabbed a few coins and gave to him, and asked, "What's on show today?"

"Oh, this one is amazing, be careful not to get scared! This thing we have got in there is a real, big hit!" _And cows would love to fly_, I thought sarcastically. This man is clearly a buffoon. I hardly see anyone around to view this "amazing hit". It must be some silly person in ugly make up in there. The tent flap was lifted up.

"Introducing, The Living Corpse!" I felt my hair stand as I thought of what they had brought in. Mum was right. They must have brought in a devil! It must be one of those helpers of Satan!

When I saw him, my heart skipped a beat.

What a pitiful sight.

* * *

I heard the tent flap lift up and sunlight shone into the tent. Another bunch of kids with sticks, I presumed with indifference, sitting in a corner. How pathetic I felt, sitting in here, all caged up. I was covered in my own waste and I do not get a change of fresh clothing! No, monsters like Erik do not deserve new clothes! Things like Erik should just rot, like the living corpses they are!

I heard someone gasp in sadistic delight and I heard a stick hitting the metal bars of my cage. Another beating I supposed. I looked at my wounds and how the dried blood has crusted around them. Now I would simply look worse than ever before. Javert said they would pay to look at me but I would never expect this! Even my own mother would never treat me this way. She would just ignore me.

"Let's throw something at it," a cruel voice of a female child cried delightedly. That's right, Erik is not human, Erik is an 'it'. I felt something whizzed past me but I could not bother. Another rotten apple, I guess. Then another whizzed past me again, and again. The fourth one hit me, and I realised with sick horror that it was rotten eggs.

"Stop it Cera!" Another voice cried. Oh, so, perhaps for a moment this human girl would ask her friend to stop, so she herself would have the chance to throw an egg at poor little me. I would sit here you know, I wanted to say to them, Erik would sit here and let things be thrown at him, because Erik is nothing but a monster up for display. I wanted to curse myself, kick myself as hard as I could. My self-esteem that had been trampled on by others has been demoralized even further. Just look at me! I am in a cage! I am in a cage and I cannot do anything about it! Erik has resigned to fate. Erik is nothing but a burden to humanity.

But nothing came, just shouting. "Stop it, you hear me! Stop flinging those eggs at him. How would you like to have rotten eggs thrown at you?"

"Shut up, Laura, you are nothing but a ninny! You're a pathetic little girl." I felt myself tense. Someone else was called pathetic, someone who was not Erik.

"Cera, I am not a ninny. You should be glad that we are related by blood! Because if it were not so, pain shall be unto you! So, count it your luck!" I heard the sound eggs getting flung and splattered, and prepared for the worst. But none came.

"You shall pay for this, you stupid girl!" The voice that belonged to that girl named Cera cried and she stomped out of the tent.

"Are you alright?" the remaining human girl asked. I refused to budge. "It's okay, I won't hurt you."

"You would not be the first to promise that," I snapped and looked up at her, a sudden rage rising in me. "And you would not be the last to break those promises! Because look at me! I am a living corpse! I am death itself!" At this, she went pale. So now humanity has once again seen me! And then they shall all shun me! Is it not just splendid? I absolutely abhor people who speak to me as though they were sincere. But when they see, oh, when they see poor Erik's face, they immediately break their promises!

But then, I saw those watery brown eyes of hers.

I softened.


	2. Chapter 2

Cera joined me a short moment after I saw the person in front of me. He looked absolutely horrible. What was going on? That make up must be far too extreme. He was impossibly gaunt and skinny. The tent stank of urine and feces. I felt dizzy all of a sudden. "Hey, want one?" Cera shoved a rotten egg into my hand. Apparently, that was a statement.

"What is it for?" I asked but she was busy looking at the person in the cage. She gasped delightedly.

"It really looks like a corpse!" Filled with glee, she began trailing the bars with a stick on the floor. That stick had blood stains on it. I looked at the boy. He was covered in dried blood. What have they done to him?

The next moment, Cera had begun raining rotten eggs on the already stinking boy inside. Lord, that girl is just so...horrid! She must be the most sadistic creature on earth! How on earth did she manage to trick everyone into believing that she was so demure? I went over and stopped her just as one of the eggs hit the boy. I grabbed her hand furiously, forgetting that I had an egg in my hand.

She screeched.

My ears, I thought helplessly, but I was firm in what I wanted...despite the rotten egg dirtying my hand. "Stop it, you hear me! Stop flinging those eggs at him. How would you like to have rotten eggs thrown at you?" I demanded, enraged.

"Shut up, Laura, you are nothing but a ninny! You're a pathetic little girl," she mocked, her voice turning into a bratty whine. My temper was rising. I wanted to kill her at that instant. She drives me mad, challenging me all the time. I care no longer that she is older than I am! Her brain must belong to a sick, demented mad person!

"Cera, I am not a ninny. You should be glad that we are related by blood! Because if it were not so, pain shall be unto you! So, count it your luck!"

All these while, the boy in the cage did not look up. He was slumped in a corner, as though he knew what was coming. Cera wanted to throw more eggs at him. This time, I got one of the eggs and smashed it on her lovely pink skirt. That ought to show her!

"You shall pay for this, you stupid girl!" she screamed, her face distorted into an ugly distaste of me. She proceeded to storm out of the tent, cursing words a person would not ever dream of coming from a little girl. Well, I did not really like her anyway. I can imagine what I will get when I get home. Mother always liked her better.

The room suddenly felt so quiet.

I looked at the boy. He still did not move. I wanted to cry. I knew gypsies paraded freaks, but I did not expect them to parade these people in such unsanitary condition. The place stank so badly I could not imagine how people could stand it in here for a long time.

I could not imagine how that boy could stand it.

How long has he been in here?

I went over to the metal bars, cleaning the rotten egg off my hand with a handkerchief. I saw a metal plate filled with a grey coloured pile of...Lord, is that food? I felt like hurling. How can a human eat that! Even freaks are human!

There was so much rubbish; rotten apples littered the area, broken sticks, and bloodstains. "Are you alright?" I asked, saying it in the gentlest voice. I wanted to cry. This sight was just too pitiful. "It's okay," I cooed somewhat, "I won't hurt you."

That boy suddenly looked up.

I was not prepared for what I was about to see.

He snapped at me, " You would not be the first to promise that! And you would not be the last to break those promises! Because look at me! I am a living corpse! I am death itself!" His face, oh lord, his face. What have they done to him! Have they disfigured him? Was he born like this? How could his mother allow this to happen!

I thought of all the possibilities that led him into this situation and wanted to weep.

His face was a yellowish in colour, as though he suffered from jaundice. His eyes were so deep set that I could barely see his pupils, which were yellow in colour! He had no nose, just a black hole, like Uncle John (who lost it in an accident). His lips were thin, dry and bore no shade of pink. Other than that, his face had bloodstains and dirt all over.

He needs a bath!

When he was done ranting, he stopped and looked at me straight in the eye. "It's okay, I promise," I said. "I just want to know you." Lord what was I thinking? I want to know him? What was I saying!

He eyed me a little suspiciously and came forward. He stank even greater than the air in the room. I held my breath a little. "What do you want from me?" he asked.

"Why are you here?" I asked sadly. "Why did you come here? Don't you know gypsies are evil?"

"Does it matter?" suddenly tears began to form in those hollow eyes. "I wanted to go home...I kept asking them to let me go...but I was worth a lot to them. They won't let me go...they won't..." he was suddenly like a sobbing child, tears flowing out of his eyes.

I suddenly remembered that I had a fresh uneaten apple with me and gave it to him, surprising both of us. He immediately took it and ate it furiously quick. Within moments it was gone.

_Oh Samantha...Samantha...this boy here reminds me of your sad plight._

I was tearing again. He looked at me and scoffed, "You're such a crybaby. I do not need your pity. I do not need anyone's pity!"

At this I felt angry. "Who ever said I was here to pity you? I am here, because my wretched cousin pulled me to this gypsy area! I did not come here to pity all those freaks on parade! Why should I pity them, if they themselves do not think that how they look are something to be pitiful about!"

He looked at me as though I said something no one else ever did.

"I have to get you out of here," I muttered and he seemed to hear it, for he perked up.

"You will do that for me?" Hell, I managed to sneak out so many things at school and at stores anyway, this guy here probably won't be much of a problem.

"Are you able to run?" I asked, when I realised his door was not locked.

"No, I doubt it." I bet what they were feeding him was not good for his health at all. He needs something nutritious.

"Well, then we have to take some time to build up your strength," I began. "I'll come here with food tomorrow."

Suddenly the boy raced back into his original spot, motioning me to keep quiet.

The tent flap was lifted up again and the beefy man entered. "Hey little girl, it's time for you to go home! We're closing for the night."

All these while, we spoke in rather hushed voices and I certainly believed the man outside heard nothing. I looked at the beefy man innocently and smiled on my way out. "How long will you guys be here?"

"Another week! Bring your friends along to see this freak! It's a once in a lifetime opportunity!"

**** **** ****

On my way home, I cried. The gypsies took Samantha too. She was my best friend, and we were inseparable, or so we thought. Samantha was born with bright purple eyes, something uncommon. Her parents did not care about her. They only scolded her and shoved her out of the house. They felt that her other five siblings were much better off than her. They seemed to think of having a child with rare purple eyes to be a burden, not a gift.

One day when we were out, we spotted a gypsy camp. Samantha said she was curious. I begged her not to go there. Gypsies were cursed. But she did not listen! We went there together. But I left alone! They seized her when some gypsy cried that she was a 'lovely specimen'! A specimen of a freak!

I ran back, I screamed for her parents. But they just said, "Good, now we have one mouth less to feed." How could they! That was their child! That was my best friend!

I stopped crying when I realised I reached home, and mother was at the door, looking really displeased.

* * *

That human girl said she wanted to rescue me. Did she really mean it? The moment she left, Javert came in for a routine check and said, "Oh look corpse boy! We made a lot out of your ugliness! Keep up the good work." He waved a bag of coins in front of me and roared with laughter, and shoved another plate of junk into my cage. How I loathe that ugly, filthy human. He would better off be dead. "Why aren't you eating?" he growled. What a choleric man. I took a piece of stale bread reluctantly and nibbled away.

"Good, that is a good beast," he laughed evilly and went out. He deserves death! Erik may not be deemed human, but Erik is certainly not a beast! It is he, this human named Javert, who is a beast! It is he, for he has no emotions!

That night when I slept, I keep thinking of those words:

_I have to get you out of here_


End file.
